The Hunger Games: The Everdeen Family
by annorawow
Summary: This is the story of what takes place 20 years after the death of Katniss Everdeen. This is her granddaughter's story of how she faces the new society.


"Della Everdeen, your choice needs to be made."

I feel a shiver run down my spine. My grandmother would be sick. She devoted her teen years to fighting the Hunger Games, only to have _this_ in their place.

"I want…I want…"

My eyes scan the groups of kids who have already 'picked their poison'. My friend Elsie stands next to my enemy Tanya with the other children who chose to spend the next year of their lives fighting with metal rods.

My eyes find the kids who would prefer to starve. I see the few who want to only be maimed. I know my strengths. I know my choice.

"I want to be a Racer." I say, loud and clear.

**One Year Later**

"You ready for this?" My friend Becca asks from beside me. I can hear the fear in her voice. She has nothing to fear though, because she can outrun most people.

"Duh!" I say, rolling my eyes sarcastically. "Who doesn't want to watch four children get dragged away from their screaming parents towards certain doom?"

"You have a morbid mind, Della." Becca says, shaking her head.

"You don't have to like this." I retort. "I can't believe it. The Hunger Games were better. At least cleverness could help you then."

"But twenty three kids lost their lives, not just four." Becca says, looking at me with a harsh glare. "At least now, we know it won't be us this year. We are the top Racers. No one can out run us, so we'll win our division."

"Quiet."

We all freeze as Rosie Snow steps up to the podium in the middle of the arena. She wears a cruel smile.

"As you all know," She begins, addressing the crowd of people in front of her, all here to watch the horrors that will soon take place. "We have a perfect society. Every single person in front of me has passed a test. I know each and every one of you is a capable citizen."

I force myself not to gag. I take a deep breath and keep my eyes off of my weeping mother. She cries into my dad's shoulder.

"These children behind me have yet to prove themselves. Sixteen is the age when failure will no longer be tolerated. That is why today we will weed them out." Rosie continues with an even wider smile. She enjoys this, and it sickens me.

"This is not, as you all seem to think, a remake of the Hunger Games. I am not a cruel president seeking to punish districts. If I was, why would we all be one society? There is no capitol. There is only our lovely town of Que. I wish for it to remain perfect. To do that, we must eliminate the weak."

"This year's graduates have had a year to practice for the sport in which they will now compete in. Basketball, Baseball, Racing, and Lacrosse are now to be played, but with some special…tweaks."

I glare at Rosie. I am thin. I am thin because every day for the past year, I have had to run until I puke to be considered fit enough to live. They call it training. That is not a tweak. That is a brutal, vile, new creation of Rosie's.

It's as if she can read my thoughts. Acting like she can pluck my words out of my skull, Rosie turns to face us.

"Racers, line up at that end of the field." She points to the end of the sport arena we are in. "I shall be there in a minute. You know the rules; run. Whoever drops out first is unfit for our society, and will be removed."

"Kiss mine." I hiss under my breath.

We are lined up. I see Becca, separated by a few people. Her blonde hair is hanging loose around her face. She is panting.

I turn away and look forward. I don't have to exert myself. I don't have to be the fastest. I just have to beat the weakest person out there.

"Ready? Set? Go." Rosie yells. She smiles like this is a magnificent display of talent. She laughs gaily like this is a play. This is life and death.

I run. There is nothing else. This is just like the thing Mom said she did in gym class. I try to remember the name.

I cross the red line at the other end of the arena. A buzzer sounds seconds later. It was called the pacer. My mother used to run the pacer.

I turn and run back. My lungs start to tighten. The arena is long. I don't want to do this. I wish I could stop, but I don't want to die.

I make a split second choice, and look over at the people behind me. Willow, probably the worst Racer in my class, is lagging far behind.

Her parents are crying. I would recognize the deep sound of her mother's anxious wails. I feel horrible about it, but I have to think of myself.

SLAM

I stand up shakily. I looked. I took a second and looked over at her parents. Willow hit me from behind, and I fell.

I sprint now. I am so far behind, and my ankle hurts. I need to beat the buzzer, but my feet won't move.

I scream in anger. I have to keep going, but my ankle gives out.

I feel each and every millisecond. I feel my knees hit the ground. I see the line directly in front of me. I realize I miss it by an inch. I hear the buzzer.

"Della Everdeen is OUT!" Rosie yells. She smiles gleefully. "Grab her."

I scream again. People converge around me, and drag me out of the arena. I scream louder as the sound of my own mother's wails cut through me like a knife.

Grandmother used to tell me about how she volunteered for he sister's place in the Hunger Games. There is no volunteering in the sports. I am done.

I will be dead before the night is out.

our document here...


End file.
